


Other Detectives have Cases

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Series: Bunnymund Holmes [3]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Angst with a Happy Ending, Corpses, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Pining, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>North's getting married, Jack keeps stealing Bunny's bed, someone's leaving dead bodies on the doorstep of 221B Baker St, and Bunny's just about at his wit's end.</p><p>How does one court a detective anyway?</p><p>Takes place about 3 years in the future after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/785897">A Midnight Offer</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other Detectives have Cases

**Author's Note:**

> "Conan Doyle's stories were never about frock coats and gas light; they're about brilliant detection, dreadful villains and blood-curdling crimes - and frankly, to hell with the crinoline. _Other detectives have cases_ , Sherlock Holmes has adventures, and that's what matters."  
> -[Steven Moffat](http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b018ttws/features/about)
> 
> Based off of Rinpin's fabulous Bunny Holmes' artwork. I cannot thank Rin or Earthstar enough for their encouragement!
> 
> Now with [NFWS Art by Pooka-Curse!](http://pooka-curse.tumblr.com/post/50861950893/gift-for-both-rinpin-and-icka-inspired-by-this)

"Holmes..." North said with a frown on his tanned features, swords magically in hand as he stared down at the stairs leading to their front door, which he was currently blocking. "Dere is dead body on ze doorstep."

"Yer powers of observation-" Bunny attempted to peer over the shoulder of his large, wide friend to see said dead body. Unfortunately, North was just a little too tall and broad in the shoulder to allow this and he went under instead, crouching down and pushing North's coat aside to look around his friend's legs. "-are acute as always, North."

North huffed, stepping aside so that Bunny could taken a closer, unobstructed view.

A European Robin, approximately 4 feet tall, young male, not quite in his adult plumage yet, still a few juvenile feathers left. Cause of death was obviously the pale arrow sticking out of the Robin's red breast, stained a darker red with dried blood. The fletching of the arrows was obviously handmade, grey and brown plumage, most likely made from the owner's own wing, the culprit, not the victim.

There were a few leaves and twigs mixed in the feathers, the sort one might get while traipsing through an overgrown park. Or the countryside.

The blood on the chest was completely dry and.... He attempted to move the poor fellow's wing, finding it stiff and unyielding to the touch. Rigor Mortis had set in, the body was at several hours old, however the lack of flies, maggots, and other pestilences decreed that it was not more than a day old.

Most alarmingly, given the lack of blood stains under the bird, 221B Baker Street was the dumping ground, not the site of the Robin's death. Although there was no sign of the body having been dragged, merely placed on the front doorstep. There was no sign of whoever might have placed it there, no shoe prints, stray fabrics or fibres that logic could not otherwise dictate having been brought there by the wind.

And it had not been there when Bunny had stumbled home in the early vestiges of dawn, two hours ago.

"Thoughts?" Bunny inquired, looking up at North. They were starting to gain a bit of an audience, people gathering around to stare at the corpse.

"I did not kill him." North nudged the Robin with the flat of a sword. "Nor did you."

"Yes, thank you for that." Bunny murmured. If North had, there would be a large hole where a sword had gone through, or a missing head, instead of an arrow through the heart. It was one of the things Bunny loved the most about his dear friend, the savage bloodthirstiness that ran below a thin veneer of civilised manners.

And if Bunny had killed the bird, he would not be so foolhardy as to leave the corpse lying on his front doorstep for all and sundry to observe.

"A warning?" North mused, his sharp eyes glancing around the gathering crowd, as if anticipating one of them to suddenly attack.

"Perhaps." It would not be the first time they had been warned away for getting to close to bringing a crime to light. "I can't think of anythin' that would currently warrant such a reaction however." He was between cases at the moment, their last adventure had wrapped up the night prior and the glow had yet to fade off into the soul wrenching doldrums.

Whistles blared in the distance, a quartet of Scotland Yard's finest arriving, with Inspector Sanderson Lestrade, or 'Sandy' as North called him, glowing in the lead. "Ah, Inspector!" Bunny straightened and grinned broadly, knowing it would irritate Sandy. "So pleasant ta see ya this mornin'!"

Sandy shot him a dirty glare. The sleepy Inspector was more of a nighttime person than Bunny was. For Sandy to be here meant that he probably had just been about to head off shift when word came that there was trouble at Baker Street.

"Slipping up, eh?" Anderson, the Groundhog, sneered. North huffed and rolled his eyes, his swords disappearing now that they were in police presence. And as a precautionary measure, to keep the temptation of having an 'accident' around Anderson from happening. "Looks like we finally got you red-handed this time!"

Sandy shook his head, one hand reaching up to touch his forehead, as if the stupid was giving him a headache.

"On the contrary." Bunny started, pulling himself to his full height, ears standing as high as he could get them. North gave a small chuckle as he too loomed, his shoulders suddenly very wide and square. "If ya simply put your eyes and brain ta work, even a drongo could put together that the Robin here was killed by his good mate the Sparrow last arvo on the outskirts of London."

Anderson blinked stupidly. Sandy made a 'go on' gesture with his hand. Bunny sighed. "Must I?" He whined. It was _so_ tedious explaining the obvious.

"Bunny." North rumbled, amused.

" _Fiiine_." Bunny glowered, crossing his arms and listing off the facts in a fast mumble. "The arrow's fletchin' was hand done by the owner, using their own pinon feathers. The grey and brown colouration is distinctly a _Passer domesticus_ , the common House Sparrow. Plant matter in the victim's feathers is not common ta any of the parks in Central London, nor would archery be permitted in such a public place without precautions and observing safety marshals, ergo, outside o' London."

Sandy nodded, following Bunny's deductions.

"As to how or why this Robin got here, I find myself as addled as you are, Inspector." Bunny shrugged. "Any sign o' a cart would have been wiped away by the bustle of the mornin' traffic, and ya can see for yourself what may have happened to any possible trace the suspect may have left leadin' ta our door."

The officers glanced down at their own feet, covering the steps and disrupting any trace of the previous passersby. Well, aside from Sandy, who floated. The two officers who were not Anderson had the grace to look shamefaced at disturbing the scene. Perhaps there was some hope for Scotland Yard after all.

"We discovered body not five minutes ago, Sandy." North added cheerfully. "As we are heading out to store. Phil is in ze country dis week and **someone** forgot to pick up milk for dis morning's breakfast last night. As vell as a few... basic essentials."

Such has food for breakfast in general, seeing as their pantry was bare.

Bunny glowered. Bah. Food. _Boring_. That was what he had North and Phil for, to keep track of such things. At least for now.

Sandy shot Bunny an amused look, then smiled at North, motioning for them to pass by them and continue on their business. The Inspector had gotten as much from them as he could at this point, and knew where to find them if he had further questions.

"We'll be in touch, I'm sure." Bunny said dryly as he walked by Sandy, careful not to step on the corpse. If not for this, then for something else. North chuckled quietly, offering the officers a polite tip of the hat as he passed. The two nameless officers clapped their hands, shouting for the crowd to disburse, sending people on their way. Bunny and North slipped in with the flow of the crowd, quickly reaching emptier streets.

"Doubtful we'll be allowed back in for at least an hour." Bunny sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. There was always the backdoor if they really needed to enter, of course, but that would trigger suspicions. "Might I suggest we dine out and retrieve groceries on the way back?"

"I am agreeable to dis." North rumbled, stroking his beard as he kept a sharp eye out for trouble. "Your treat, of course, for making such a gracious offer."

"... Of course." Bunny agreed, with just a small smirk of amusement. He did a quick check, verifying that he had his wallet with him. If not, there were other options.

"Excellent!" North clapped him on the shoulder, causing Bunny to crash into North's solid familiar bulk, filling his nose with the scent of wool, gunpowder, wood, and the musky male scent that was uniquely North's. It was one that meant safety, security, home to Bunny. His best friend and dear companion.

Who would be leaving soon.

"I am zinking chicken for breakfast." North said jovially, a true carnivore at heart.

Bunny felt his stomach roll slightly at the idea of eating meat. "Eggs for me." He murmured. He liked eggs. Eggs were great. Nice smooth shells, a pleasing shape to the eye, and tasty when cooked right.

Flesh from a formerly living creature was not.

North boomed with laughter, accustomed to Bunny's vegetarian ways, but not above teasing him for it. "You and your eggs! We vill get you eggs and silly leettle vegetables." North assured him, one arm firmly wrapped around Bunny's shoulders, tucking him improperly close as he pulled Bunny down the street. "And cookies too!"

Bunny smiled back, reminding himself to be content with what he had, while he had it.

* * *

The sweet scent of Snowdrops drew Bunny's attention from his memories to the physical realm once more. He'd been meditating, going through recent facts and cases to see if there was any connection to their dead Cock Robin. None that he could find.

Which meant that the body had been left there for another reason.

Not to get Bunny interested in the death, not when there were many witnesses to the accident. Although none of the witnesses or mourners could explain why Cock Robin's corpse had vanished from his house, only to reappear at Bunny's door. 

It did not help that he was distracted as well. North and Toothiana's nuptials were in a couple of weeks and approaching faster than he cared to admit, the happy couple looking at houses in preparation of moving in together as man and wife.

As in, North would be moving _out_ of 221B Baker Street, and away from Bunny.

The thought disquieted Bunny on more than one level. He was certain that they would still be the closest of friends, but North would no longer be _here_ , a constant presence in Bunny's life.

He'd be alone. Again. It seemed like he'd just found North, gotten used to having a companion, someone who would stay by his side, and North was already leaving.

Perhaps that was his lot in life, starting with the slaughter of his clan....

Bunny dismissed the thought, opening his eyes to find his... To find Jack Adler, better known in the underworld by his _Nom de guerre_ as 'The Joyful Thief Jack Frost', sitting in what was usually North's chair, legs crossed at the ankle, his pale blue top hat resting on the side table.

As usual, it was impossible to tell where Jack had been, or what he was up to by being here. Bunny had never run across anyone else nearly as skilled at masking themselves as Jack was.

It’d be annoying if it wasn’t such a novel change. 

"No tea?" Jack inquired, glancing around with wide curious eyes, as if completely shocked and appalled by the lack of proper hosting.

"Nanny’s on vacation." Bunny waved a hand at him. They had assured the Yeti that they could take care of themselves just fine for a week without their housekeeper. Which meant they were going without tea at the moment, as North was generally busy and Bunny couldn’t be bothered. 

Jack would make it himself, or not, depending on his whims at the moment. "Or there’s plenty of milk fer it as well." North had certainly made sure of that.

Jack chuckled, looking amused and Bunny's fingers itched. He almost reached for his pipe, belatedly remembering Jack's protest to his use of it, and grabbed a paint brush and a blank egg to paint instead. Better to wait until Jack left before lighting the pipe. "What brings ya by, Frost?" Bunny drawled, his fingers idly deciding on a pattern without any input from his brain.

"Tea." Jack smirked, stretching much like a cat before settling down in the chair in a boneless slouch. Jack put on a good facade of a proper gentleman, but scratched the surface and he was as wild as Bunny was. He had a hunch that given a choice, Jack would run around in as little vestments as possible, something that Bunny could all too easily agree with.

Clothing was such hassle. Itchy, too. 

“Y’know where ta find it.” Bunny smiled back. Jack was certainly around enough, even if he didn’t always show his face. 

Jack made an irritated noise. “Maybe later.” He sighed, scratching his head, ruffling his already messy hair. 

Bunny’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “Ya didn’t do it.” He said, amusement colouring his tone. It had never crossed his mind that Frost would be the one to move the body and leave it on his doorstep, thief skills or not. Jack was certainly a rogue, but there were lines that Jack did not cross. Very broad, thick solid lines. 

He got a fond look back, and Bunny could hear the silent ‘aww, you do care’. 

Jack held a finger up. “Pitch didn’t do it either.” 

Bunny’s grip on his paintbrush tightened, the wood creaking and curving under the pressure he was putting on it. “Repeat that.” He growled, aware of the hair along his spine puffing up defensively. 

It would have worked better if he hadn’t been wearing so many blasted clothes. 

He got an eyeroll in return. “General Pitchiner didn’t leave the bird on your doorstep.” Jack slowly repeated, as if Bunny was being an idiot. 

That wasn’t the part that worried Bunny. “And y’know this how?” 

“Because I _asked_.” Jack said, swinging one foot over the arm of the chair, rocking his foot back and forth. “Not Pitch. Directly.” He added with a quirk of his brows. 

Bunny took a breath and let it out. Good. He didn’t want the former General anywhere near Jack, or vice versa. 

Pitch had a habit of corrupting everything around him, turning it twisted, dark. And Jack was too bright, too full of light and joy to allow that to happen to. 

Too dear to Bunny to bear it if something happened. 

“Thanks.” Bunny murmured quietly, glancing down on at the egg in his hand, forcibly relaxing the grip on the brush. He was grateful for both the fact that Jack cared enough to check into it without asking, and that Jack had kept a safe distance from Pitch. 

Jack made a soft sound in return, eyes half lidded as if he was ready for a nap. 

There were times when he wanted nothing more than to wrap Jack up in feather duvets and hold him close, protect him, keep the rest of the world away from him. Jack would never stand for it, but that didn’t stop the urge. 

He looked at the egg, discovering that he’d painted it blue with pale silver snowflakes. Of course. Anyone who wanted to see what was on his mind needed no special deductive abilities, save their eyes. 

“Robins symbolise Spring.” Jack said quietly, shifting sideways in the chair, so his head was propped up on one armrest, legs thrown over the other, throwing him into profile. 

“Yes.” Bunny agreed. He had wondered about that as well. 

It was something that none of them mentioned much, that some people had special.... Affinities. Abilities tied to said affinities. 

Like why Bunny was sometimes known as ‘The Detective of Hope’, or North was the ‘The Wonder Doctor’ and Toothiana was ‘The Reminder’. 

With Jack’s Joy came Winter, not just ice and snow, but winds and temperatures as well. He could do things that Ice and Water elementals could not, although he didn’t use them very often as Jack Alder. 

North was a Wizard, able to summon his swords with barely a thought, yet unfindable when they were not in his hands. He had a knack for knowing exactly the perfect gift people needed too, usually right when they needed it to brighten their spirits. 

Bunny was fairly certain that Tooth could fly, in addition to her eidetic memory and ability to help people remember the little moments of joy had forgotten. Or where their housekeys were. 

Bunny had several odd abilities tied to his aspect, more so than any other person he’d ever met. Sometimes he wondered if it was because of his age, or because he wasn’t human. There was no one he could ask, and limited information for him to deduce from. 

But Spring-time was the season of Hope, when Bunny was at his peak, both mentally and metaphysically. He had to be careful when he walked or fully grown plants would spring up in his footsteps. For someone to leave a murdered symbol of Springtime at his front door was... Disquieting. Disturbing. 

If they were trying to send a message, Bunny was certainly paying attention. 

To what or whom, was yet to be seen however. 

Jack let out a soft sound, muffling a yawn. “Long night?” Bunny inquired quietly, trying to keep the question as neutral as possible, asking about _Jack_ , not his activities. It was more likely that Jack had been up with the moon, not the sun. 

He got a grunt in return. “Manny’s up to his old tricks.” Jack grumbled. 

“Manny?” Bunny’s eyebrows flickered upwards. He hadn’t heard from ‘The Man in the Moon’ in ages. “What does he want?” 

“For me to join his ‘Guardians’.” Jack made an annoyed sound, waving a dismissive hand. “For Queen and Country and all that rot.” 

Bunny still wasn’t entirely sure what Manny’s position in the government was. He claimed to be a minor government official, but one that wielded large amounts of power and privilege, answering only to the Queen, Mother Nature herself. 

The Guardians were touted as Protectors, aiming to protect the children and the ones who were often overlooked, but more often than not operated as a strike force, taking out targets hand selected by Manny himself. Bunny had no interest in being something ‘Greater than Himself’ --as if there was a such thing--, and thankfully neither did Jack. 

North and Tooth had also been approached by Manny, and Bunny knew that both were considering it. Sandy was already a member, although that was generally not greatly advertised. 

All of Manny’s Guardians were like them, with special affinities and abilities. It was enough to make Bunny paranoid. 

… It was possible that the two were related. Murder wasn’t Manny’s style, Manny loathed mindless loss of life. Yet that didn’t mean Manny wouldn’t do what was he thought he was necessary to achieve his goals. 

“Y’can kip here if ya’d like.” Bunny offered. “Bed’s free.” 

Jack gave him a sideways look, then shook his head, closing his eyes. “Here’s fine.” 

Here, where Jack could keep an eye on Bunny, and Bunny could guard his slumber. "Alright." Bunny agreed, rising to his feet. Jack watched with slitted eyes as Bunny retrieved his large green coat from the hook beside the door, then draped it over Jack. 

"Thanks." Jack burrowed himself into the dark green folds it, curling up with a contented sigh so that the only thing visible was a tuft of silver hair at the top. Bunny smiled to himself, resisting the urge to touch, as it would keep Jack from his slumber. 

Bunny had long since resigned himself to the knowledge that Jack would never see jail time for his thievery, at least by Bunny's hand. Which meant it unlikely that he ever would. Bunny had gotten over what irritation that caused him, preferring to delight in what peaceful times they had together. 

"No worries." It was for himself as well. His coat would smell faintly like Jack for the next few days, something that Bunny heartily approved of. 

Bunny hummed quietly to himself as he settled back in his chair, picking up the egg again, noticing that the spaces where the snowflakes overlapped formed little hearts. 

He was pathetically transparent, wasn’t he? 

Ears twitching with amusement at himself, he picked up his brushes and began hiding small purple aster blossoms in among the snowflakes. He’d have to hide the egg later, before Jack saw it or North noticed and teased him about it. .

* * *

An unfortunately quiet week later, Bunny discovered a scattering of large egg shells and fabric scraps all over the front steps of 221B Baker Street. It was obviously from one very large, very round egg, one that had been dressed in what was once a nice suit.

The shells formed the outline of a heart.

"Well." North said after a long uncomfortable moment. "You did say you loved eggs."

Bunny groaned and ran a hand over his face, quietly trying to reign in his irritation. “And how do y’know it’s not for ya?”

North crossed his arms over his chest, the picture of affronted dignity, save for the amused sparkle in his eye. “I am already taken.” 

Yes, by Tooth. Bunny glanced away, back teeth grinding in frustration. He spotted one of his Irregulars lurking around the corner, a surprised look on the lads face. 

Bunny motioned the lad over, digging in his pocket for a moment before retrieving a coin and flipping it to the kid. "Send word to Inspector Sanderson, if ya would." He requested. "We have located the remainder of Humpty Dumpty's remains."

... And he'd so been looking forward to having a nice normal mystery to solve.

* * *

"You're being courted by someone else." Jack said, sprawled across the foot of Bunny's bed, impeccably dressed in a crisp blue suit, aside from his missing shoes. Bunny had been smelling him on the sheets for the past week, Jack sleeping in it when Bunny and North weren't home. 

“I am not.” Bunny huffed, undoing the tie around his neck, the grass-green silk sliding against his fingers. 

“You’re being brought dead bodies as presents.” Jack asked with a playful sulk, watching Bunny undo the buttons down his front with a keen eye. “What else does one bring the detective who has everything?” 

Bunny smirked. “Riddles and aggravation.” It had certainly caught _his_ attention. 

Jack seemed to mull this over. “Should I be jealous?" He inquired, as if aloof to the answer.

Bunny huffed, tossing his coat and vest over the back of a chair before leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "No." There was certainly nothing for Jack to feel jealous over. 

Jack gave a pleased smile, looking like a smug cat in the cream. 

His relationship with Jack was... complicated. Far from traditional courtship, certainly. Occasionally lovers, occasionally rivals. Jack could be the greatest help one moment, then laughing as he ran off with someone else's sparkley in his hands the next. 

He dearly wished that Jack would stop doing that and go legitimate. The life of a detective was not an easy one, but it was far less perilous than that of an international thief. 

Years ago, hardened by the loss of his clan and the rigors of travel, he had sworn that softer emotions were not for him, that base impulses were beneath him. North and Jack had done much to change that. North, his beloved friend, and Jack his... whatever Jack was. 

"Any leads?" Jack inquired, rolling over on his back to watch Bunny upside down. 

"Reckon it's a Spirit." Bunny said, deftly undoing the shirt cuffs before working on the rest of the buttons, shrugging out of the shirt, baring himself to the waist. He pretended to ignore the predatory look in Jack's eye as he added the shirt to the pile of clothes, mentally preening slightly under the attention. 

It was all just transportation, but that didn't mean he wasn't meticulous about his appearance. Healthy body, healthy mind. 

"No physical evidence left behind of how the bodies were moved?" Jack mused, a thoughtful finger curled around his chin. Bunny sat on the edge of the chair to undo his leg coverings, idly smoothing the fur from where it had been bunched all day. It itched when it did that. 

"And police reported that the shell fragments they were attemptin' ta collect kept vanishin' without a trace in front o' their eyes." Bunny agreed with a nod. Although Humpty's motivation for climbing the wall, other than for the view, continued to elude him. Thank goodness they lived in a civilised age when things like Spirits were known, and not mysterious hoo-doo. 

There were also quite a number of spirits connected with the newly, or sometimes not so newly deceased. Hellhounds, Banshee, Corpse Lights, headless Dullahans. Although he was starting to wonder if it was not in fact a cat, with the way it brought dead bodies to the doorstep. 

"Annoy any spirits lately?" Jack smirked, rolling right side up again. 

"Not on purpose." Bunny smirked, rising to his feet. He rarely intended to annoy anyone, but when he did, it was with surgical precision. "Y'spendin' the night?"

Sleep or more, either was fine with Bunny. 

If North smelled of safety and home, Jack smelled like _possibility_.

Jack tilted his head to the side in a thoughtful gesture, his thoughts masked from Bunny. "Where is North tonight?" He asked neutrally. 

"Sword Fighting with his fiancee." Bunny said, not bothering to hide his bitterness. North was glowing with pride and amusement, almost dancing at air as his wedding approached steadily closer, binding him and Tooth together.

Bunny was attempting to be a supportive friend, but he was uncertain at how well he was succeeding, given his lack of care for the nuptials entirely. Tooth was a lovely woman, fiercely proud and a wonderful match for North, but that didn't mean that Bunny had to like the fact that she was stealing his dearest friend away from him. 

"Swordfighting?" Jack asked, making a lewd gesture with his fingers. "-Or _Sword_ fighting?" 

A chuckle escaped before Bunny could hide it. "Sabres." Bunny smirked. "She's just as deadly with them as he is." 

Jack's eyes widened slightly. "Oh." 

Bunny wondered if Jack had actually met Tooth yet, or if he'd just lurked, observing from a distance. Tooth would probably adore Jack and his mask of manners. 

“They won’t be back til yonks.” Bunny assured Jack, if that was what the thief was worried about. North would escort Tooth back to her place too, before returning home just before dawn, humming the Arabian Dance from Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker. 

Jack’s expression shifted, his body relaxing as he gave Bunny a lidded smile. “In that case...” He said, sitting up and began undoing the knot at his throat, tantalisingly slow as he bared the pale skin of his neck. 

“Need help?” Bunny offered with a small grin of his own. Jack delighted in turning Bunny into a mindless pile of sex-addled mush, not that Bunny had any complaints about that, but he wouldn't mind a chance to turn the tables. 

“Maybe.” Jack leaned up, one of his slightly cool hands stroking Bunny’s cheek, reaching back to run his fingers through the thick fur on Bunny’s neck. Bunny shivered in response, leaning into the contact. 

Since the death of his clan up until he’d met Jack, no one had groomed his fur, either avoiding physical contact entirely, or performing polite pats. Even North never figured it out, with his exuberant bear hugs and bone shattering claps, although he didn’t mind if Bunny leaned against him occasionally. 

“Since you’ve got a head start and all...” Jack purred fondly, radiating contented pleasure as he brushed their noses together in a soft nuzzle. He continued sliding his clever fingers through Bunny’s fur, smoothing the grey strands out and scratching lightly the itchy spots, something that never failed to turn Bunny a warm pile of melted goo.

Thankfully, Jack was _very_ fond of Bunny’s fur. And getting it all ruffled. 

Bunny giggled, his brain already switching off.

* * *

Three days before the wedding, Bunny and North caught a break in the case of Bunny’s mysterious suitor, as Jack teasingly refers to whoever is leaving him bodies on his doorstep. 

It was not the best break, just a glimmer of a shadow departing from their doorstep, leaving a dark bundle behind. The shape triggered in Bunny’s memory, the impulse to flee overwhelming for a moment before North’s steady gait pushed him into moving. 

He couldn’t stop the twitch of his ears and nose as they approached the door, North letting out a soft curse as he knelt on their doorstep. 

It was the black roasted body of a ladybird bug child. Bunny didn’t need to be a doctor to tell that the child was dead. 

North made a groaning sound, like something has been ripped from him and Bunny cringed, resting a hand over North’s shoulders for a moment, before unlocking their door and poking his head in. 

“Phil?” He called, their Yeti landlord grumbling in response. “There should be a lad waitin’ on the back porch. Could ya have them contact Inspector Sandy?” 

There was a pause, then Phil agreed. Bunny murmured a quick thanks, then turned his attention back to the openly sobbing North, wrapping an arm around his friend, his sharp ears catching the footsteps of one of his Irregulars dashing off towards Scotland Yard. 

Children... Children were precious to North. Bunny was neither for nor against children, but he felt his friend’s pain as if it were his own. 

He’d been alone for years when he first met North, the walking mass of contradictions. Soldier-Doctor, Killer-Healer, and part time Toymaker with a fondness for sweets. North had raised himself in the wilds of Russia until he'd been taken in and taught how to use weapons to fight by the Cossacks. Then educated and trained himself in the healing arts, often finding himself on the battlefield in one capacity or the other. 

They’d annoyed each other from first sight. 

Somehow, mostly through fighting either themselves or everyone else around, they had bonded, North becoming his loud furless brother, his most trusted and beloved companion when Bunny trusted no one. 

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for North, North was almost everything he had. 

However, he was not all that North had, not anymore. 

Bunny took a deep breath, hating himself at the moment. He could pull North out of his grief for the child, turn his mind back to the case and North would do it, with eager bloodthirstiness. 

Or Bunny could be kind. 

“Phil?” He called, their landlord grumbling back from the doorway. Bunny sighed, turning away from North. “Could y’fetch Tooth, please?” He requested quietly. “Bring her here?” 

Phil looked at Bunny for a moment, then nodded. Phil ducked inside for a moment, coming back out with a hat, walking briskly towards Marylebone street to pick up a hansom cab. 

Bunny held North until Sandy arrived, thankfully without Anderson in tow. Sandy’s usually cheerful face fell into a sad frown as he took in the small body in North’s arms. 

“House fire.” One of the officers said quietly, for Bunny’s ears only. “Down on Pudding Lane. Mother was out at work when the fire started, trapping and killing all the children inside.” 

Bunny felt himself go cold. “Thank you.” He murmured, drawing North inside, passing North his handkerchief to dry his eyes with. Sandy motioned for them to go inside, he knew what was going on. 

North obediently followed Bunny, feet shuffling as he mourned the loss of the little one. North was a passionate soul, his heartfelt emotions running both hot and deep. Bunny brought him up to their parlour, pulling out the vodka and pouring North a glass, quietly passing the glass to him and keeping the bottle. 

Personally, Bunny prefered tea to the sharp smelling alcohol, but that was him. At one point in their acquaintance, North would drink vodka as if it were water. 

He heard the hansom cab pull up, then the quick light footsteps of Tooth’s arrival, unerringly heading towards the parlour. 

“North!” Tooth appeared, her green and lavender gown in slight disarray, as if she had thrown on whatever was closest at hand when Phil had beckoned her. 

“ _Moy golubushka!_ ” North gasped, rising to his feet, staring at ‘his dove’ in surprise. Tooth clasped his outstretched hands as he stared at her in wonder. “Vhat are you doing here?” 

“Phil got me.” Tooth smiled, reaching up to trace North’s sharp jawline in a tender caress. Bunny closed his eyes and turned away from the happy couple, quietly leaving the parlour and retreating to his room. 

The shadow, the one that he had seen as they approached the door, the shape of it was familiar. He’d seen it in his nightmares for years now, the monstrous black dogs that had hunted down and destroyed every last Pooka, save for Bunny himself. A fluke, mere accident had resulted in his survival. 

The huge black dogs infected by Pitch’s dark shadowy fear, bringing Death and Fear wherever they went. 

But Pitch’s dogs were solid, with glowing eyes. This one had been translucent, fading as if it were made of the shadows themselves. 

There was nothing inherently evil about shadows or darkness, in and of themselves. The night was often Bunny’s ally, concealing him and allowing him to do his work. The fact that it was made of shadows did not necessarily mean that the creature was evil. 

There were rumours across the British Isles of huge monstrous Black Dogs under various names. Barguest, Padfoot, Grim, Mauthe Doog, Capelthwaite. Usually forewarning the viewer’s imminent death, or the death of a close family member, although there were some that were known for being helpful, and leading travellers away from certain doom. 

Supposedly there was one such beast in London, escorting the condemned to the gallows of Newgate Prison, although Bunny had yet to see it. Most likely due to the fact that he’d never attended any of the public executions that drew such large crowds. He derived no joy from the criminal’s deaths, merely satisfaction in knowledge that justice had been served. 

But that gave him a starting point. 

He grabbed his coat, swinging it on as he stepped out in the hall, mouth opened to bellow for North when his sensitive ears picked up the noises in North’s bedroom above him, soft words, sighs, the creaking of bed springs. It appeared that North and Tooth were getting a head-start on creating their family. 

Bunny ground his teeth together until it sent a sharp ache through his jaw, the pain bringing clarity. He would attend to this alone. 

Fetching his hat and his revolver, he slipped out the back way, avoiding the police still gathered on the front step, heading into the darkness of the London streets.

* * *

He didn’t have to look hard for the Black Dog as he approached the Debtor’s Door of Newgate Prison, the three part iron and oak door that the condemned walked through in their last moments, on their way to the gallows. The Dog was waiting for him, sitting in the middle of the street, tail swishing across the cobblestone street without disturbing the dirt in the road. 

Bunny froze for a moment, fingers twitching for his pistol. He had a bag of salt for protection and purification on him as well, practically a necessity in his line of work, and it was tempting to throw a handful of it at the beast. 

And then the Dog leaned forward, tail in the air, broadcasting ‘Let’s Play’ as clearly as it possibly could, bouncing up and down, looking like a hopeful playful pup greeting his master at the door. 

…. Jack _had_ said that he was being courted. 

Bunny crouched, wiggling his fingers at the Dog, who cautiously slunk over, as if afraid of being struck. The Dog tentatively sniffed his hand, and when Bunny didn’t move, sat down at his feet and stared up at him adoringly. 

Right. Bunny huffed, scratching the Dog’s head, who leaned into it with pleased expression. He could feel the cold silky fur, a bit like fog that stuck to his fingertips. “Ya’ve been a right nuisance, y’know that ya yabbo?” Bunny drawled, his tone light. 

Monstrous beast, his fluffy tail. 

The Dog just sighed, leaning its head on his knee. Bunny rubbed the Dog’s ears. “You’re a horrible excuse fer a mutt, bringin’ dead bodies like a cat lookin’ fer attention.” He mused. “Although I suppose y’can’t really fetch me slippers, can ya?” 

Seeing as he didn’t wear shoes and all. 

Bunny sighed, looking up at the shadow of Newgate Prison, hearing the soft murmurs and cries of the people imprisoned inside. It was a horrible place, soaked in over 700 years of agony and torment, grown from the remnants of when the Romans had once wandered Londinium.

There was a legend, about a scholar that had been sent to Newgate Prison under the sentence of witchcraft some 300 years prior. But before he could be put on trial, the starving prisoners inside tore the scholar to bits and ate him. The Black Dog of Newgate Prison appeared soon after, escorting prisoners to the gallows.

The same gallows that Sparrow had swung from the morning Cock Robin was discovered on his doorstep. 

300 years was a long time to wait for a master who was never going to return. 

There were whispers of the Prison were to be torn down for a new Criminal Court building be built on the remains, making way for a more and ethical humane treatment of prisoners. Society was changing, and the world with it. 

The Dog’s tail thumped, the cold nose nudging Bunny’s hands and he realised that he’d stopped scratching. “Sorry.” He murmured, resuming petting the beast. The Dog didn’t seem to mind, basking in the attention. 

Bunny knew the feeling, isolation, loneliness, taking what scraps of affection he could get. It still recent and raw to him, even after fistfuls of decades. He’d never told North how long he’d been alive before his Clan had been slaughtered. Centuries, possibly Millennia. He’d lost count, age being inconsequential at the time, seasons appearing as if days. 

But then North was older than he looked as well. Not nearly as old as Bunny, but still at least several decades older than his age belied. 

Bunny sighed. He was so tired of people leaving, one way or another. Perhaps he had been right, it was better to be alone. 

The Dog cuddled closer, curling around him. 

... Or not. 

"C'mon then." He said, rising to his feet. "Y'can stay with us." Bunny saw enough death and murder in his daily life that it was unlikely the Grim would ever fade from his view.

The Dog bounced up and down, following him excitedly as he took the long route home, walking back to Baker Street. The Grim was an excellent walking companion, curious at the surroundings, never growing bored of Bunny's frequent stops to peruse his city, familiarise himself with the many quirks and inscorcincaties that made up his beloved city. 

The house was quiet by the time they got back, police gone, lights out, everyone inside having gone to bed. Bunny snuck up to his rooms as quiet as he could, the Grim looking around with quiet enthusiasm, as if being respectful of the sleepers. 

Bunny sat down on his empty bed with a sigh, looking out the window. North would be moving out in the afternoon, setting up his new house tomorrow, and getting married the day after. 

He didn't want to be here when that happened. 

Bunny closed his eyes, fingers curling into fists. He owed it to North to be there for the wedding, but he didn't have to be here and watch his best friend leave. 

In an explosion of motion, he bounced around the room, shedding his usual dapper clothing for clothing that was of lower quality, slightly torn and dirty. The Dog jumped up on the bed, watching him as he did so with a curious tilt to its head.

"Stay." He whispered, holding a hand up towards the Dog as he climbed out the window. "I'll be back later." 

The Dog made a whining motion, creeping forward. Bunny held up an admonishing finger, then climbed down the side of the building, skulking out the back way. 

The Grim met him on the corner, tail wagging hopefully. 

"Oh, whatever." Bunny grumbled, shaking his head. It wasn't as if everyone could see the mutt. 

He felt like hitting something, and he knew of where bare-knuckle boxing match was going on. The perfect distraction.

* * *

They found a corpse on the way. 

Bunny looked at the Black Dog. "Really?" 

The Dog merely looked smug, tail thumping against the ground.

* * *

Fighting, at least the style of which he habitually engaged in, was most emphatically not a 'Gentleman's Sport'. There were no polite rules of society here, it was primal, bloody, and violent. 

And generally the perfect thing he needed to disconnect his brain from his surroundings.

He could, and frequently did, fight using his brain, predicting probable actions, counters, and consequences. He could quickly assess his opponent and then temporarily disable, permanently maim, or even kill one in a matter of seconds, depending on what the situation called for. He knew his strengths, his limits, his weaknesses. As a detective he was a tactician, a master strategist. 

But sometimes it felt good to just let go and pummel the hell out of another body, and be pummelled in return, to ride high on adrenaline and pain as he exercised his body as well as his mind. To have the world shrink down from the cheer crowds, to the ring, to the next opponent in front of him. 

To cast aside the rules of civilisation, and return to basics. Survival of the fittest. Etiquette here was to beat, or be beaten. 

It was exhilarating, liberating, glorious in its savage freedom. 

And ultimately, temporary.

* * *

Bunny deleted everything about the wedding from his mind, save for the expression on North's face the moment he first saw Tooth start walking down the aisle. 

He'd never known that someone could feel so many varying emotions in such a fleeting second.

* * *

Bunny escaped as soon as he could once more, disguising himself and finding temporary work at the docks, loading and unloading cargo. It was repetitive mindless work that he had done before, straining his bruised and battered body, leaving his eyes and ears open to observe the damp foggy docks around him. He lost himself in the masses, staying in cheap lower class lodging for a week, living off the scraps he earned and building his information network. 

London was almost a different city, going from the upper echelon of polite society to the lowest class. Manners and propriety took a backseat to getting by, although gossip was still the prefered coin of trade, no matter what the social status. 

There was something grounding about being among the masses that made the city work and flourish. Doing a hard day's work with his hands, his merit being based on muscles and work ethic rather than his reputation and infamous brain. 

Ultimately though, the life he had built for himself beckoned him back to the familiar comforts of Baker Street, but not before a quick visit to Sandy at Scotland yard. He turned over evidence of six smuggling rings, everything from drugs to slave trade, two opium dens aiding the smuggling, three previously unnoticed high-level thefts --sadly, none of them Jack Frost--, and one impersonation of a nun by a male pirate. 

Phil let out a high-pitched scream as he walked in the front door, first that he was still alive, then yelling about the state of his clothing, and finally flailing at the dirt he was tracking into the house as he walked up stairs to his room. 

Bah.

Bunny fell face first onto his bed as soon as arrived, climbing into it before taking a deep breath and letting it out, muscles melting as he luxuriated in the softness of the mattress and the multitude of blankets. He was exhausted, people were idiots, and his friends sucked. 

The floor above him creaked, footsteps as someone rolled out of the bed, out of the room and down the hall. The new lodger, no doubt. 221 Baker Street was ideally located next to Regency Park, it probably hadn't taken more than a day or two before someone had moved into North's rooms. 

A pang in his heart soured his mood further. He'd see how long they lasted. No one ever stayed around him for long, except for North, and even he had ultimately left, for the joy of ‘marital bliss’. 

If he were honest, Bunny wasn’t even mad at North for doing so. It just drove home how alone Bunny was. The last Pooka, too intelligent by far, his abrupt personality keeping most everyone at bay, human and Pooka alike. The only person who’d ever shown any interest in him as a... occasional _lover_ , not even a potential partner or a real mate, was crazy thief masquerading as minor nobility, who randomly showed up and drugged his tea before disappearing for Fates knew how long again. 

He had thought he’d come to terms that to be alone was his lot in life ages ago. He wanted more, too much, and this was the price, this wretched hollowed out, empty feeling. The reminder that companionship was not for the likes of him. 

The footsteps moved closer, most likely for polite introduction and small talk. 'I'm certain we shall be the best of friends' and all that rot. He growled to himself, baring his sharp teeth. Not again. He was **not** going through this again. 

"I have no idea why your friends love you as they do." Jack's dry tones startled him out of his simmering dark mood. "Except that we do." 

"Jack?!" Bunny pushed himself upright, turning to find the thief leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, casually dressed in shirt sleeves and trousers. His feet were bare, toes pale against the dark wood of the floor. The bare feet caught his attention, Jack hardly ever not properly dressed, unless they were about to be naked together. "What are y'doin' here?!" 

Jack smirked, his own gaze raking across Bunny's body with muted amusement. "Have you bathed at all since the wedding?" He drawled, obviously anticipating the answer to be a negative. Bunny frowned back. He had in fact washed himself since then, in murky tepid water. "Never mind." Jack shook his head, waving it off. "I'll meet you in the parlour after your bath. Take your time." 

Without further ado, Jack walked downstairs, calling for Phil. No doubt for tea and something to eat. Bunny made an annoyed noise, gathering up his favourite robe and a pair of loose drawstring trousers, before making his way to the top floor for a bath. 

Jack was... Jack was _here_. 

Bunny’s mind was in a whirl, trying to make sense of Jack’s appearance. He looked like he had been here for a while, enough to truly be comfortable, instead of just appearing to be so. 

He was torn between soaking and actually getting clean in the tub and hurrying down as soon as possible, lest Jack disappear again. He hated getting completely wet, his fur took ages to dry and generally a damp towel was all that was required to get clean. But he stunk of sweat, salt water, tobacco, stale gin, and several other unsavoury scents, necessitating soaking in the tub for a good scrub. 

The hot water did feel good on his aches, exhaustion weaving its seductive fingers at him, nearly lulling him to sleep. He shook it off, washing as quickly as he could, then shaking himself dry within the contents of the tub. 

Phil complained for hours whenever he shook himself in the middle of the room, getting fur _everywhere_. 

Bunny towel dried his fur as much as he could, then pulled on the trousers and robe, leaving the latter unbelted to let his fur dry as he went downstairs. He slowed himself down on the stairs, barely keeping from flying down them. He wasn’t quite as good at masking his emotions as Jack was, but he could keep himself from being completely obvious. 

Jack was sitting in North’s... in the spare chair, on the other side of the fireplace from Bunny’s, a silver tea tray with a steaming pot of tea, and bowls of bright orange soup waiting on the table between. Bunny’s nose twitched, picking up the slightly bitter scent of Assam tea mixing with the sharper scents of ginger, garlic, and curry. 

“There’s bread too.” Jack said, picking up a loaf wrapped in a towel, the scent of recently baked bread joining the mouth watering scents. “For the Carrot and Ginger soup.” 

“Ta.” Bunny said, sitting down in his chair, silently bracing himself. Plying him with food... Generally not a good sign. Which food was drugged this time? What kind of drug? 

Usually he didn’t mind these kind of games with Jack, but he was not in the mood for it tonight. 

Jack reached across the table, grabbing Bunny's fingers where they curved on the armrest, his cool narrow digits holding tightly to Bunny’s. “It’s not drugged.” Jack said quietly. “No tricks. On my word.” 

Bunny glanced at Jack’s pale fingers, then up at his vivid pale blue eyes, weighing the word of a thief, the word of _Jack_ versus washing his hands of their back and forth relationship and retiring back to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. 

He sighed, then nodded. It may have made him a complete gumby, trusting Jack, but his attribute was Hope for a reason. “Alright.” He agreed. 

Jack gave him a small smile, just a flash of nervousness leaking through, although it might have been Bunny’s own wishful thinking. Bunny took the offered bowl of soup with a slight frown, rubbing his eyes for a moment before taking a cautious sniff of the soup. There was certainly none of the bitter medicinal tang of North’s remedies. 

For someone who was as fond of sweets as North was, it did not carry over into any of his vile potions. 

He took a cautious sip, noting that it did not taste doctored either before resigning himself to eating it. Jack watched him eat with a indecipherable look on his face before picking up his own bowl and beginning to eat, pulling his legs up so the toes curled on the edge of the seat, knees up near his ears. He tore off chunks of bread to dip into the soup before shoving it in his mouth, holding the bowl close, as if afraid it was about to be taken away from him. 

Bunny had seen Jack eat with manners that would put the Royal family to shame. It wasn’t just the bare feet, there was something different about Jack tonight. Bunny took the opportunity to study the thief from the corner of his eye, noting the curled posture. While Jack frequently affronted a casual posture, it didn’t look like he was ready to flee at a moment’s notice for a change. 

… Although Jack was nervous. He could _read_ it, the apprehensive twitch of Jack’s limbs. 

Bunny could hardly ever read Jack, his masks and walls too thick, too deep for even Bunny to penetrate. 

The line of Jack’s cheek wasn’t as sharp as usual either, fewer worry lines. Jack filled his clothing a bit better than he usually did, as if he’d been eating regularly lately. Phil’s cooking? 

Something had recently changed in Jack’s life. Something significant. Something that had lead Jack... here. 

“How’s Mary doin’?” Bunny asked. Jack’s sister, the one person Bunny had ever witnessed who had the ability to provoke an honest, unguiled response from the thief. 

Jack smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling faintly, and Bunny had a feeling that Jack was both pleased and amused at the question. “She’s good.” He said warmly. “Got a new, honest, job as a maid.” 

“People ya’d trust?” Bunny asked, one eyebrow arching up. According to Jack, Mary was the first thing Jack had ever stolen, from people who’d taken Mary in, then used her as a servant and proceeded to abuse her. 

“If pressed, I’d say I trusted them with her life.” Jack said, the polished shine of amusement on his words that did nothing to disguise the harsh ring of truth. 

There weren’t many people Jack would trust with _his_ life, much less his beloved sister’s. Bunny found himself smiling back, even as he wondered who they were. He didn’t know a lot about Jack’s life, just what he had been able to deduce and what Jack had let slip. 

“But alas, she tossed me when she did, the ungrateful rotter. ” Jack said, his tone woefully amused despite the choice in words. He glanced around, before looking at Bunny and shrugging one insolent shoulder. “I haven’t had a permanent home in a long time, thought I’d give it a try.” 

Bunny’s breath briefly caught in his throat as he realised what Jack was dancing around, the clues falling into place. Why Jack was here, the casual attire, the relaxed attitude. _Jack_ had moved into North’s room, moved into 221b Baker Street, with him. With Bunny. “I’d like that.” Bunny said honestly, surprise keeping him in his seat. 

A second thought followed quickly on the heels of the first. “Does this mean-?” Bunny breathed, barely cutting the words back least saying them curse him. That Jack was giving up theft, going straight. 

Jack laughed, no mockery in it, but not much amusement either. “Could you give it up?” He asked, waving a hand around the room. “No more mysteries? Adventures? Riddles to solve?” 

“No.” Bunny shook his head, his answer requiring no careful thought at all. It didn’t matter if he called himself a detective, an artist, a scholar, or a fighter, that perpetually curious part of him that had him running towards danger instead of away was too deeply ingrained, too much a part of him to give up. 

Just as it was for Jack. 

“I can promise there’ll be fewer.” Jack said, turning to look into the fire. “Less of a demand, now that I’m only taking care of myself anyway. And nothing that can be traced back here to ruin your reputation.” 

Bunny bit back a scoff. He could care less about his reputation, save it came in handy sometimes, kept him mostly out jail, and brought in riddles to feed his brain. North was the one more likely to worry about it than Bunny was. Jack shot him an amused look, a dry twist to his lips that said he knew what Bunny was thinking. 

But then Jack played the society game much better than Bunny ever had. From what he’d been able to track of Jack’s trail, the thief had a couple of invitations to stay new ‘friends’ houses every week. ‘Friends’ who were known to have certain... tastes. 

He tried hard not to think about what Jack did at those places. Other than look for items to steal. 

“I play the violin when I'm thinkin’. Sometimes I don't talk fer hours on end.” Bunny said quickly. “And sometimes I don’t shut my yob. Would that bother ya?” 

“I wouldn’t be here if it did.” Jack gave him a smile that could almost be considered sweet, if it wasn’t for the sharp knife like edge. But then Jack had been sneaking in and and out for ages, he knew Bunny’s bad habits, even if Bunny was still learning his. 

Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other. Before it became a problem. 

Bunny looked away from Jack, looking around the parlour, spotting the things that were missing, North’s belongings. North had left the dagger with the letters on it embedded in the wall, often citing that it was a good idea to always have a weapon on hand. 

“Why here?” He finally asked. ‘Why me’ he meant, but he couldn’t find the courage to voice it. 

“Because I like it here.” Jack said quietly, one leg sliding off the chair as he set his soup down. “Mary’s close by. And because of this.” 

Jack said quietly, pulling a painted egg out of somewhere on his person and setting it down on the table between them like an ultimatum. 

Bunny swallowed. It was the egg he’d been painting the day Jack had visited him about the death of Cock Robin, with the snowflakes and asters forming little hearts where they overlapped. 

The one he’d hidden away, so that no one could see his foolish hope. It was almost juvenile in it’s inelegancy. The only other thing he could think of that would have been even more grade school would have carving ‘S.H. + J.F.’ inside of a crude heart on the wall. 

And Jack just sat there, unreadable with his masks and shields up, staring at Bunny like it was Bunny’s move.

Possibly it was. Jack _knew_ , he had eyes and a brain, and knew how to use both. He’d seen the egg, found it and stolen it for himself. 

And wasn’t running in the other direction. Bunny had been careful, as careful as he knew how not to chase the thief away with wanting more than Jack had offered. 

But if this was on the table.... He certainly was not going to turn Jack away. 

He opened his mouth to say so when he heard a familiar rumble. His ears rotated without a thought, searching and narrowing it down to the other side of the wall, next to the fireplace. Holding up a hand to Jack to pause the conversation, he rose from his chair and pressed his head against the wallpaper. 

North. That was definitely North’s booming voice on the other side of the wall, calling for more wood for the fireplace. 

Once more, facts and pieces fell into place, forming a new and different configuration. Jack had said he had no idea why Bunny’s friends loved him as they did, including himself in it. That Mary had gone to work for someone that Jack trusted, who was nearby. 

The flats next to 221 were built along the same schematics, only mirrored, with the fireplaces back to back. 

“Hah!” Bunny grinned, bouncing to the far side of the parlour, where his chemistry set was. He quickly mixed several together in a beaker before scurrying back over towards the chairs, where Jack sat, looking vaguely amused. 

“You’re a brilliant, mad man, and I adore you.” Bunny leaned down to press his muzzle against Jack’s temple, the closest he could get to a kiss with his lips. It also put him at the perfect angle to shield Jack when Bunny threw the beaker towards the wall next to the fireplace. It exploded upon impact, taking out a man sized chunk of the wall with it. 

He couldn’t quite keep from hopping a little in excitement as he poked his head through the hole, then yelped slightly as he ducked to avoid the fire poker aimed for his head. Bunny’s grin widened as he took in the furious brown eyes of Mary, Jack’s sister, holding the poker in front of her protectively, ready to swing if he stepped any closer. 

Like brother, like sister. 

The other room was clearly North and Tooth’s, filled with the various bric-a-brac that was missing from his parlour and furniture that Tooth had obviously brought from her birthplace. North and Tooth burst into the room, swords in their hands, North in his pyjamas and Tooth....

Bunny’s grin widened as he greeted them. “North. Tooth. I see those feathers go _all_ the way down.” Aside from her face and hands, she was completely covered in shimmering green feathers, her wings sparkling as she floated over North’s shoulder, sabres in hand. In the background, the bullpup Bunny had given North as a gift burst into the room, looking around with confused excitement. 

“ _BUNNY!_ ” North wailed as his wife squeaked and dove behind him, using North as cover from Bunny and Jack’s eyes. Not that Bunny was particularly interested, other than the possible complications of wearing stiff fabric over feathers. He wondered if she hated clothing as much as he did. 

Jack made a choked gleeful sound as he draped an arm on Bunny’s shoulder, leaning his slight weight against him. “I think we’re going to require a carpenter for a set of new doors.” Jack said with dry humour. 

North grumbled in return as he put his swords away, looking both resigned and amused. Behind him, Tooth gave a little giggle, her violet eyes sparkling merrily and Bunny felt a surge of affection for her. And for Mary, who was still holding the poker aimed at Bunny, even as she gave her brother a sceptical expression, as if silently asking if Jack had gone crazy. 

Jack smiled back, looking smug and proud. 

North had bought 223 Baker Street, moving he and his wife right next door to Bunny, hiring Jack’s sister as their live-in maid. Jack had moved into North’s old rooms, into 221, with Bunny. 

Placing all of them close to each other, where they could watch over each other. Where none of them would be alone. Bunny especially. He hadn’t lost North at all, he’d _gained_ more than he ever thought he could. 

Bunny didn’t know why his friends loved him as they did, but he certainly adored them back for it. 

Bunny began to laugh, just a bit hysterically, but no one seemed to mind. 

 

Epilogue:

“Y’don’t need ta eat the same food I do.” Bunny commented as he watched Jack serve himself from the vegetarian dishes Phil had made specifically for Bunny’s tea. “I don’t take offense to others eatin’ meat.” 

He got a shrug in return, Jack sitting with his feet tucked up on the chair in what Bunny had come to realise was Jack's preferred ‘relaxed’ posture. “I enjoy what you eat.” Jack shot him a quick smile, a cheek comically stuffed full of bread like a chipmunk as they enjoyed the warmth of the fireplace, the doors between 221 and 223 freshly hung and open. “It’s good.” 

Bunny smiled, feeling the curl of contentment in his gut that only came from good food and friends. 

“So finish explaining.” Jack waved at him to continue the story of his mysterious ‘suitor’. “What happened after you confronted the Grim?” 

“He’s around.” Bunny smiled. As if summoned, the Grim poked his his head through the wall, giving a silent but happy bark as it saw Bunny, leaping towards him. “Speakin’ of which... Ah!” Bunny held up a finger. “Go get your body! Go find yer body! G’wan! Get yer body!” 

The Grim bounced back through the wall, happy and jubilant as a puppy. 

Bunny glanced over at Jack, who had a puzzled look on his face, as if he wasn’t entirely certain he had seen the shadow of a dog or not. Jack saw more than the average person did, but he did not deal with as much death as Bunny did, so it was a bit of a toss up if Jack actually saw the Grim or not. Or if he would admit to seeing it. 

A moment later, a white and brindle striped Bulldog came stumbling through the open doorway between the parlours, jaw dropped in a proud canine-smile. Jack blinked, his eyes going wide as he stared the sturdy bulldog with new eyes. 

Or more appropriately, the bulldog’s uncanny pure-black eyes. 

“Good boy.” Bunny praised, sending the dog into paroxysms of rump shaking delight. 

“How?” Jack asked, his tone slightly hesitant, even as he extended a hand for the dog to politely sniff. “This is North’s dog, isn’t it?” 

“The one I gave North for his weddin’, yes. We stumbled upon a dyin’ bullpup while out fer a walk.” Bunny smirked as the bulldog plopped down next to Jack and leaned against his legs. “The Grim took over the body. Although I’ve observed he does have the peculiar habit of occasionally accidentally steppin’ out of it and leavin’ it behind.”

North had cursed at Bunny for experimenting on the pup when he stumbled upon the ‘dead’ dog. Which Bunny hadn’t done anything of the sort. Yet. 

It was a good thought. 

“What’s his name?” Jack asked, obviously warming up to the Grim as he scratched the short ears, the pup making groans of appreciation. 

“Was originally planning on callin’ him ‘Grimstone’.” Bunny shrugged. All and all, a proper fitting name for a Grim. 

“However, he’s much too happy of a pup.” Bunny grinned. “So North named ‘im ‘Gladstone’.” 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> You can’t tell me the costumes for the [Nutcracker's Arabian Dance](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rx8cCLumV10) don’t look like Tooth:
> 
> Nursery Rhymes:  
> [Who Killed Cock Robin?](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cock_Robin)  
> [Humpty Dumpty](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humpty_Dumpty)  
> [Ladybird, ladybird](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ladybird_Ladybird)
> 
> The housefire on Pudding Lane is a reference to where [The Great Fire of London](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Fire_of_London) started in 1666, burning the vast majority of London to the ground. 
> 
> [Newgate Prison](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newgate_Prison) (which was hella old)  
> [Black Dog](http://www.ghostbooks.net/story.php?id=039) of Newgate. 
> 
> [Carrot and Ginger Soup](http://britishfood.about.com/od/adrecipes/r/carrotgingsoup.htm)  
> Kudos to those who got the references to BBC Sherlock.


End file.
